


four of hearts

by sinspiration



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Dom Shiro (Voltron), Dom/sub, Gangbang, I'm not kidding about the subspace, M/M, Multi, Pet Names, Soft filth, Sub Keith (Voltron), Subspace, all the clones are shiro, and they all love keith and keith loves them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: He takes the contract and reads it over. It’s the usual one, but for his trouble he gets kisses and soothing hands rubbing down his back. They want him to think it over for the rest of the day. Sleep on it. And as always, they assure him it isn’t necessary if he doesn’t feel it’s right.Somehow they don’t understand that for Keith, it always feels right.
Relationships: Keith (Voltron)/Original Clone Character(s), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 347





	four of hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Aphor, who basically handed me ideas on a silver platter, and to everyone on twitter who was into this concept. You're all great.

Keith is presented with the contract on a Wednesday afternoon. 

They’re all getting ready to take a movement off, something they try to do every few phoebs. They’re all prone to overworking and going without breaks, especially when they’re all doing something they love so much. Traveling the stars, flying together, as they go on humanitarian missions to help clean up the universe.

Keith knows they worry about him, going hard until he’s ready to drop, just as he worries about all of them, with a work ethic too powerful for their own good. But they all keep each other in line, now. It’s harder to push yourself too far when you know there are other people who care for you, watching you, making sure you get rest. That you have moments to unwind.

Sometimes Keith suspects that the reason Shiro--that all of them--are so good at taking their own time to relax is because they want to lead Keith by example. Not that he’s complaining.

And sometimes they all know that he needs more. Needs someone to put him down. Maybe even needs to fight and struggle until he’s forced to accept his own defeat, until he can sink out of his head and into their hands.

Needs _them._ Needs to be theirs.

He didn’t think that he was getting bad again, but he supposes he’s been jumpier lately. One of the reasons they all decided on a break was because they’d recently come off a harder mission. The people they had been helping had been very grateful for said help, but there had been a lot of sneering about Galra and their various atrocities. No one had known about Keith, and he was glad of that, because the planet had needed them and he hadn’t wanted their assistance turned away because of what he was.

But his hands had started to shake by the time they had bid the planet goodbye. 

He takes the contract and reads it over. It’s the usual one, but for his trouble he gets kisses and soothing hands rubbing down his back. They want him to think it over for the rest of the day. Sleep on it. And as always, they assure him it isn’t necessary if he doesn’t feel it’s right.

Somehow they don’t understand that for Keith, it always feels right. Even when he wants to push it away, to clench his jaw and hiss that he’s fine… he knows that when he’s presented with the contract… it means he isn’t.

It used to be that every inhale was jagged. Rough-cut and biting, living in a world that was scraping him raw. But knowing Shiro, getting to love Shiro, getting to love every _part_ of Shiro… it makes it easier to breathe.

The contract is about trust and love, and Keith has so much for all of them that it spills over into everything he does. It spills over into who he is. It’s nothing to put himself in their hands.

But it’s everything to know that when they ask him to sign, it’s not only ever because Keith needs it. It’s about them needing Keith, too.

***

Keith sleeps on it like he’s supposed to, but he’s ready to sign the contract by Thursday morning. It’s just after breakfast, and everyone else has migrated to the common room, reading, watching things, chatting about their plans for the upcoming break. Keith goes into his room to fetch the piece of paper.

All five of them have their own rooms. It was something Keith suggested, when they decided to take to the stars with a ship all their own. It was important for them all to have their own spaces, their own place to retreat.

All of them have big, big beds though. Keith’s is the biggest. And rarely does he sleep alone.

He eyes it now, made neat _-ish_ , but the covers rumpled. He’s always slept better curled up in a ball, surrounded by covers piled high around him.

It was only the first time that Shiro held him while Keith slept that he realized he was maybe… compensating for something. Searching for warmth and the illusion of touch the only way he could get it.

The paper isn’t signed yet. Keith grabs a pen and goes back to the common room.

He gets the usual smiles when he re-enters, but the smiles turn sharper when they realize what he’s holding. 

“I’m sure,” he says, before anyone can ask. “I’m ready. I… I want to. I want to be yours.”

Shiro beats the rest of them to the punch. “You already are.”

Keith shivers pleasantly. “I know.”

“Keith.”

Keith turns, unsurprised to find that everyone’s stood, coming closer, crowding around him. “Yeah?”

“If you sign this you’re ours completely.” They’re words he’s heard before. “You won’t be allowed to say no.”

Keith’s lips quirk. “I can say no all I want. You just won’t listen.”

Each smile is a blade, their eyes dark with desire. Keith’s blithe comment curls around the room as they all shift that much closer, watching rapt as he signs the paper and holds it out.

It’s plucked from his fingers.

“Oh, we’ll listen.” The voice is a purr as a hand comes to cup under his chin. “You’re lovely when you’re desperate.”

Keith nuzzles into the hand holding him and gets pulled into a kiss for his trouble. 

One kiss turns into two, into three, turns into hotter, filthy things. He’s being touched from all sides, big, warm hands passing him back and forth between them. They strip him down to stroke bare skin and at some point his feet leave the floor. 

There are mouths on him, biting at his neck, sucking on his nipples. One presses kisses lower and lower until it’s between his legs, making Keith arch and moan. His noises are swallowed up.

***

“Ha… ah…”

“There you go,” someone murmurs from behind him. “Taking us so beautifully. I knew you would. You always do.”

Keith knows it’s not _Shiro_ Shiro, because _Shiro_ Shiro is reclining at the head of the bed, watching. Keith’s eyes are blurred with tears, but he doesn’t have to see Shiro to know his eyes are dark with pleased desire. He got to have Keith first, and will get to have Keith last, and otherwise gets to watch and occasionally croon out praise.

The four of them blur together for Keith when they get like this, hell bent on utterly destroying him, but at least none of them have ever gotten miffed at him not being able to tell them apart. They’re all some versions of Shiro in the end, which is why he loves them and why they love him ( _love_ him), and that’s all that matters.

“Fuck he’s still tight,” the the one underneath him growls, hands gripping Keith’s hips. “Love that about you, sweetheart. Always so perfect for us.”

Keith’s breath stutters and he manages to clench, which has the two men inside him hissing. The grip on his hips tighten, the hand in his hair twists. 

They don’t all take him together like this very often, because it can take several days for Keith to recover, and he’s bruised and sore for days afterward. He loves it though, loves feeling how intense they were, and they love to dote in the aftermath. Sometimes their play extends to the recovery day and they don’t let him leave the bed. He’s been leashed and collared before, teased with sweetness, all so exquisitely good he almost couldn’t stand it.

He’s signed himself away now, too. 

He’ll deserve everything he gets.

“How about that mouth, kitten?” a third says, gripping him underneath the chin. Keith obediently opens, though he’s panting hard, taking the cock that slides between his lips. He can’t do much besides cover his teeth, with the other two starting to move and thrust inside of him, but it’s fine like this too, just a cocksleeve to be used however they wish.

He whines, high in his throat, as they cover him, press into him, deep deep deep and so far inside there’s no part of him that isn’t also part of Shiro.

Another hand fists in his hair. “God, so good. Filthy little thing, look at you--”

Keith sobs around the cock in his mouth. Tears have already started to fall, and he doesn’t even try to stop them. They salt his lashes and trickle down his cheeks, and he hears Shiro let out a pleased rumble from his spot on the bed.

“Fuck, baby, crying already? We’ve just barely gotten started. You’re not close to done yet.”

“Love it when you cry,” the one in his mouth growls. “Gorgeous, all messy and red--”

He pulls out and slams back in, and Keith chokes, the hand in his hair unrelenting, holding him there. He struggles for a second on instinct before forcing himself to relax and let go, eyes full of tears but without a hint of fear in them. The arm around his stomach is a band keeping him in place for them, as another hand strokes soothingly down his back.

He gasps for breath when the cock slides out of his mouth, but has the presence of mind to try to nuzzle forward and get it back between his lips. There’s laughter above him.

“I don’t think so, kitten.” Some hair is brushed away from his face. "Wanna come in your ass like everyone else. Gotta fill you up. I’ll paint your pretty face next time.”

Keith’s protest is turned into a half shriek at a particularly vicious thrust, followed by another, then another, as though the only thing that was stopping the two still inside him was not wanting to completely wreck his throat.

Maybe that’s what it was, because now that Keith’s mouth is free, they do everything they can to pull out every sound. He’s sobbing fully by the time they both come inside him, and then he’s flipped on his back without even a moment to catch his breath and another cock is pressing into his hole. He can’t even keep straight how many times he’s been had so far, no idea how long he’s been kept like this. All he knows is that Shiro fucked him into the mattress, and then one by one the other three took their turns, and all four of them were happy to keep going even after their dicks tapped out.

The bed is strewn with toys, well-used, and they passed enough time driving Keith out of his mind and to the brink of exhaustion that they were all ready for another round.

There’s six loads of come inside him now, the squelch obscene, and it dribbles out of him with every hard thrust.

“Please,” he babbles, lost to it. “Please, please, please--” they know he’s not asking for anything--not asking them to stop or soften. Just that sometimes he needs to beg, needs to let himself go enough to allow it, and know that they’ll listen and cover him with honey-sweet praise for giving himself over so completely.

“Please,” he sobs again, when the one inside him finally shudders and comes with a low groan. “Please, I can’t, please.”

“Shh…” he’s petted, gentled, his hair stroked. “Yes, you can. We know you can. You’ll be good for us, won’t you, baby? We know you love to be good for us.”

Keith’s breath hitches, chest heaving. His ass aches, his stomach is full, and his whole body is sore. He’s a raw, oversensitive nerve, and he doesn't have anything _left._

Except he does, because they’re asking. “I-I--”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Someone thumbs at the tear tracks, another presses a palm between his legs to finger his hole. “You can and you will.”

A shadow leans in to whisper. “Because we’re not done with you yet.”

***

“Open for me, love.”

Exhausted, Keith opens his mouth to accept the straw bumping against his lips. He drinks his fill then slumps back against the man holding him.

The one with the water pouch sets it aside and reaches for Keith’s wrist. Presses a kiss to Keith’s palm.

Then his eyes glint and he presses next on Keith’s stomach. It’s slightly rounded now, full of their come, the plug they pushed inside of him large and present, keeping it all in. Keeping him open for whatever they want to do next.

Keith chokes on a moan, trying to shift away, but he’s still held tight and there’s nowhere to go. 

“Ah-ah.” The admonishment is tinged with dark amusement. “Be good, baby.”

Keith’s trying, he is, but when a hand moves down to play with his rim, he starts to struggle. He can’t take anymore, he _can’t._ He doesn’t even know how many times they’ve had him. “Stop, please--”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” It’s a third voice, walking toward the bed where Keith is trapped. Surrounded. “But we’ve only just started, kitten.”

“Please--!”

It doesn’t matter; he’s pushed onto his stomach anyway. He tries to roll back over, but a firm hand between his shoulder blades, another over the back of his neck, holds him down. His legs are forced apart.

He fights it blindly, all instinct, but he’s too wrung out and it doesn't last long. “Please…” It’s weak and he knows it. They all do.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” It’s cooed as the plug is slowly pulled out. “All you have to do is take it.”

Something new pushes at his entrance. It’s thick and ridged, and he can feel every agonizing inch as it’s pushed into him.

“No,” he whimpers. He tries to close his legs again.

The slap to his ass is sharp, stinging, but more of a shock than pain. “Stop that. Be a good little fucktoy.”

He shrieks when the thing inside him starts to vibrate, and he twitches in their hold. Words fly above his head.

“Fuck, he’s so pretty.”

“Oh--do that again.”

“Think he can take a higher setting?

A laugh. “He can take whatever we want him too.” And then, “right, baby?”

He couldn’t answer even if they expected a response, because two fingers slide into his mouth, so deep he almost gags. “Suck.”

He does, and it’s a comfort. “Good boy. Not so hard, is it?” The voice above him is fond. 

“Our pretty little kitten.”

“And all ours.”

“So perfect and all ours.”

_Yours._

_Yours yours yours yours yours._

***

Keith blinks slowly, vision swimming back into focus. He just manages to make an inquiring noise, way beyond words.

“Shh,” says the one who’s picked him up, cradling him gently to his chest. “Just gonna clean you up, sweetheart.”

Keith lets out a breath, eyes slipping shut again as he’s carried to the bathroom.

Though he’s taken into the large shower, not the bath, he isn’t set down and expected to carry his own weight. Instead the one carrying him sits down on the bench, keeping Keith in his lap. Someone else follows them into the shower.

“Shiro?” Keith asks muzzily. Everything is fuzzy around the edges.

The man smiles. “Yeah, sweetheart. Of course.”

Keith nuzzles into the one holding him. “Shiro,” he breathes.

He’s squeezed once, just an all-over tightening that grounds him and makes him feel _held_. “Mm-hm.” The voice rumbles with gentle amusement. “Always, for you.”

Keith sighs. Distantly he hears the water turn on.

The one holding him is in charge of just that: keeping Keith from sliding to the floor. He manipulates Keith like a doll, allowing the other to wield the soap and water. They wash him together, leaving clean skin in the wake of soft touches, chuckling whenever Keith chirrups sleepily.

Hands dip between his legs and Keith spreads obediently, head lolling back against a strong, firm chest. Two warm, wet fingers press inside slow but deep, making Keith’s toes curl.

“Still loose,” one murmurs, pleased. “Still so open and wet for us.”

Keith gasps amid the steam of the shower as a third finger is added and he tries to close his legs. He’s too strung out, too sensitive, too tired. He can’t--

The sound he makes when hands curl around his thighs and pulls them apart is high with distress, but neither pay him any attention.

“What do you think?” one says to the other. It’s casual. Conversational. 

One of them strokes through his wet hair. “Oh, I have an idea.”

Keith cries out as he’s lifted, cries out again as he’s impaled on a cock that stretches him wide again, reaching deep in a way that only this angle allows. He scrabbles, pawing at the one in front of him as he sinks to his knees. “Wait, please--”

His hips are gripped tightly, the thick cock inside him starting a slow, relentless grind as Keith’s own cock is swallowed down, and all he can do is whimper.

***

They both fuck him in the shower, cleaning him out again once they’re done, and this time hands and mouths wander, turning it lewd. Groping and squeezing every inch of him, pinching at his nipples and making them puffy and sore, leaving more dark marks on his neck, his chest, his thighs.

When he’s finally carried out of the shower, it’s into the arms of a third man, holding an enormous fluffy towel. He squeezes the water out of Keith’s hair then wraps him up completely.

“Shiro?” Keith mumbles.

“Yeah, baby?”

“M’tired.”

“I know.” The words are warm. “I know. You’re being so good.”

“I am?”

“Mm-hm.” A kiss is pressed to his forehead. “Such a good boy for us.”

Keith’s smile is dopey and he knows it. “‘Kay.”

It’s not his room that he’s carried back to, but he can only tell because the bed is different. It’s too dark to see details, and Keith isn’t up to paying much attention to them anyway.

He’s still a little damp when they settle him under the covers, but then a big body gets in next to him, and he’s safe and cocooned, which is all that matters.

“You’re gonna keep me warm, baby,” Shiro murmurs, trailing a hand down Keith’s chest. “We’re going to sleep, and you’ll keep me warm. Won’t you?”

Keith hums and allows himself to be moved. It’s so easy to open again, to take the cock sliding into him. It feels good again, full and grounding. Feels even better when an arm wraps around his body and pulls him impossibly closer.

“Good boy,” he hears as he drifts off. It elicits a sleepy chirp as the world falls away. Until there’s only Shiro.

***

He’s guided to his knees for breakfast, allowed to lean against a muscular thigh and let his eyes go half-lidded, opening his mouth when he’s told to to accept bites of food. Conversation goes on around him, above his head. Talking about whose turn it is to do which chores. More prep for when they touch down on the planet they’ve decided to visit in a few days. Communication that needs to be sent to various parties. Nothing that Keith has to think about, right now.

He shakes his head once he’s pleasantly full. Nods when he’s asked if he’s sure he’s done. Then he’s coaxed to his feet and led toward the common room. He’s stopped in front of one of the wide couches and again put on his knees.

The grin is filled with a soft sort of mirth as he’s motioned forward. “C’mere, baby. I’ve got some letters to write.” A thumb runs over Keith’s lips, which part. “Time for you to open up for something else.”

Time flows, murky, endless. Pleasant, with little staying power. At some point his mouth is empty again. He’s given water. Made to eat savory things, sweet things, in little bites. 

He’s pulled into someone’s lap, happily pliant as hands map out his body--

One of them is running their fingers through his hair--

Two of them are inside him again, and he’s so full he doesn’t know how he stands to be empty--

More water, more whispered praise, more-- 

_Fuck, sweetheart._

_Filthy little kitten._

_So good, love._

_You’re perfect, baby._

There are touches, so many touches, always some point of contact somehow, some bit of warmth. He’s loved.

He’s loved he’s loved he’s _loved_

“Shiro?”

“Yes?” It comes from more than one mouth, more than one smile, more than one set of dark eyes.

His cheeks are wet. Blindly he reaches out. “S-Shiro--”

He hears several quiet, awed inhales. “Oh, baby, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. Come here.” 

He’s gathered up and he holds on tight, pressing his face into Shiro’s neck. Words escape him as the sobs do.

Another comes up behind him and kisses his shoulder. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. So perfect. Everything we’ve ever wanted.”

“We love you so much. God, so, so much.”

Keith cries and clings. They take turns holding him, rocking him, carefully wiping his face.

He’s wrung out when the tears finally abate, floating somewhere outside his body, where it lies limp in Shiro’s embrace.

“Okay, kitten.” Shiro always holds him just tight enough. Fingers card through his hair “Okay. There you go. That’s it. That’s it.”

***

Keith’s mind is clear when he wakes up next.

The first thing to do is take stock of himself. He’s clean and his hair isn’t even too much of a mess because it’s been braided for him. He’s sore but in the best way, and knows that today will still be a lazier day, gentle stretching, light workouts. Probably lots of pampering, which will be delicious even if it’ll make him blush beet red and grumble while everyone dotes.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, looking at his hands in the dim light and flexing his fingers. Every inch of his body is his own, and he’s fully settled into it. There aren’t any insecurities running through his mind. No stresses or pressing to-dos. He has a day ahead of him, a week ahead of him, and he’s going to enjoy it. He has days, weeks, years to look forward to, and there will always be more stressors, more negativity, more feeling as though he’s going to vibrate out of his skin--

But not now. 

And for those times yet to be, he will have times like this.

He loves this feeling most of all. The knowing. There is no question. No uncertainty.

He has a future, and it’s bright.

Keith smiles to himself in the dark, and then assesses, deciding on what to do next. He’s tucked up in between two large bodies, but he’s got practice in wiggling free. All he gets is some grumbling, but neither man wakes up.

Shiro didn’t start out as a light sleeper. Then he was, for too many terrible reasons. But it’s been long enough now that Keith doesn’t wake him. He knows Keith is safe. They all do. 

It never fails to leave Keith breathless, to see the extent of Shiro’s trust. That it even extends to Shiro being unconscious.

He grabs a shirt, overlarge and perfect, then swings by his own room for some boxers before heading to the bathroom. Once done there, he pads to the kitchen, humming quietly to himself.

It’s funny how all four of them stumble into the kitchen almost at the same time. Hair in various stages of disarray. None of them are wearing shirts. Keith is appreciative.

“You weren’t there when we woke up,” is grumbled at him.

Keith huffs a laugh and allows them to pull him in for four hugs, four different soft kisses tasting of toothpaste. Then he points imperiously to the table. “Sit. I made breakfast. The water’s already boiled,” he adds, because none of them do well without their morning tea.

Four smiles. “Thank you, baby.”

Everyone picks out their tea of choice and Keith passes out mugs. Each of them have a personal one, in a different style. Keith picked them all out. He got four separate delighted types of smiles and _“it’s perfect”_ whispered in his ear.

He doesn’t let any of them help bring breakfast to the table. In part to show himself off. Not only how he looks with marks decorating his body, but how it’s clear he’s moving without pain. How loose he is, how settled. All eyes are on him, checking him over, gauging how he’s doing as well as their own work.

Of course, the question is still expected.

“Good,” Keith sighs as he sits down. “I feel good.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about sheith on twitter? @justsayins (and really, this is the type of thing you should expect.)


End file.
